


i worship you like holy days

by soldierwitch



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, POV Clarke Griffin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:36:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soldierwitch/pseuds/soldierwitch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If bodies were temples, Clarke would lie prostrate before the altar of Bellamy’s heart and whisper words of regret, remorse, and redemption.</p>
            </blockquote>





	i worship you like holy days

**Author's Note:**

> title from [bad blood by nao](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nj6qkx5Gb2Q)

If bodies were temples, Clarke would lie prostrate before the altar of Bellamy’s heart and whisper words of regret, remorse, and redemption. Redeem me from the shadows of my own making, she’d say. Hold me in the wave of your love. Wash over me. Make me anew before your eyes so that I am worthy. I have desecrated this ground. Trampled through your gardens for fear of losing that which I had yet to understand. I knew the terrain of your body clothed, protected from the elements, and so I foolishly thought you’d be shielded from the hurricane of my decisions. Now that I have begun to learn the lay of your land, I can see I have left scars in my carelessness. The crack in your smile is partly my fault and no matter how many times I sip from the well of your lips, I cannot fix that which I have broken. You won’t let me lay you down. Won’t let me mark the map of your brown skin. You keep me behind walls, lock me behind gates, but you hold my hand like a prayer, and I pray that you forgive me for my sins against you. I have weeped for you. You do not know the months I spent curled in on myself at night. Ashamed of the lives that I have taken for love but still longing for your arms and the promise of together. I love you beyond reason, beyond time. You are my soul, and I want to come home. 

She’d climb the stairs of his spine with her fingers. Gently run her hands across the brown of his expanse until his eyes flutter open. She’d lay a kiss in offering against his cheek and state the purpose of her visit. Forgive me for I have sinned, she’d say. I have loved to ruin. Death has made a mockery of me twice and in effort to not suffer thrice, I left a heart to the cold. I confess that I am a sinner lost and longing to be found. Blessed are those in your presence. Blessed are those in your regard. You are the Sun and if I am to be the Earth caught in your pull then I shall gladly be a satellite. Heavenly. Your body which protects. Heavenly. Your body which shields. I should have taken refuge in your arms. I should not have run into the dark when you were offering the light. Forgive me my transgressions. Forgive me my sins. 

If bodies were temples Clarke would nip softly at Bellamy’s heel. Suck lightly at his ankle. Let her hands run up the length of his legs as her lips leave open mouthed kisses in their wake until she reaches the cradle of his thighs. She would moan her exaltation as her tongue laves over the tip of his cock. Shiver through the quiet huff of his quickened breath. Touch me, she’d think. Accept my offering. I come before you humbled, on my knees, with love in my heart. Grace my body with your hands. Slip your fingers into my hair and hold me to you. I wish only for this: your love and mine intertwined. You will not listen to my words, so I offer you my body. My mouth is yours as is my embrace. I will hold you close. Sheath you in my walls. Bring you comfort and joy. I will not fail you again. This I promise; this I swear.

But bodies are not temples. They are fragile. Skin and bone. Blood and water. And Clarke is agnostic. She has seen death, been its tool, and no God has stepped in to alter the carnage of her life. But when she looks at Bellamy, feels the soft caress of his gaze on her, she cannot say that his existence is not a blessing to hers. This beautiful man that she has hurt. Who holds her at arm's length even as he presses kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her hair, her hands. He stands forthright in his position, doling out tasks to their people, and she ponders her reasons for leaving him. A year ago, her departure from his side made sense but now she mourns the time they lost to her decision. In 3 months, he'd loved and lost. In 12 weeks, he’d built a wall she is steadily dismantling piece by piece. In 90 days, he'd closed himself off to her and is now struggling to let her all the way in. Actions have consequences and hers have led to the emotional rift between them.

Bellamy trusts Clarke with all things except his heart and no kiss has been able to change that truth. But they say time heals all wounds, and she will wait a lifetime if she must. Until the day he is ready to hear her say I want you like a lost thing wants to be found. I need you like oxygen. I was suffocating away from you. You don’t know. I was looking up at the stars wishing for your safety. I was praying. I was in the mud hoping you were standing like an oak under the sun. I love you in every tense. You are home and without you I am homeless. I am sorry I made you believe that you are not enough. I am sorry that everyone you love leaves. I am sorry I left. You were enough. You are enough. You will always be enough. And I will prove it with your hand in mine as we stand against the tide of our lives. I will be your safe harbour. I will be your shelter. And if you let me, I will be your home. 

Until then, Clarke will wait like she has for the room to clear. She will step up to Bellamy and kiss his forehead. When he asks why she kissed him, she’ll say, “The sun made a halo of your hair,” and watch as a smile graces his face thinking _I love you. You are my faith. Your hands are the gentlest to ever hold my heart, and I promise this time I will do the same for yours._

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading.


End file.
